


Texas Toast - How We Met

by Charlyoddsox27



Series: Texas Toast - The Full Story [1]
Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Male Pyro, Maskless Pyro, Romance, Slow Burn, intelligent pyro
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-07-20 22:56:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16147289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charlyoddsox27/pseuds/Charlyoddsox27
Summary: A lonely RED Engineer spends a sleepless night in the desert.Little does he know, he's about to get a visit from a curious little intruder; a visit that, unbeknownst to him, will change everything.





	1. Close Encounters

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So this is my first fic on Ao3. I know, I'm very late. I also just joined the tf2 fandom.  
> I'm very rusty at writing, but I love this ship and I thought this would be cute. Not sure where I'm going to go with it from here, but so far I like it!  
> Hope you enjoy regardless.

It was a cold night in that dusty wasteland. The RED team were all asleep in their base, tired from a long day of fighting; all except for one.

The Engineer sat outside, a ways away from the company of his teammates. He couldn't sleep. Insomnia was a common problem for him, especially on colder nights like this. Often it was because his mind was racing too hard about an array of things (mostly work-related), and usually, he came outside to tinker and build in peace in an attempt to clear his head of whatever was troubling him.

But he didn't mind. The nighttime was so peaceful. And in the chilly Winter air, he could truly enjoy the warmth and glow of a campfire.

Growing bored of the little piece of machinery he was tinkering with, he sighed and set it down next to him, then glanced at his guitar. He picked it up, dusted some dirt from its smooth surface, then gently set it on his lap. Surely, at this hour, he wouldn't have to worry about any BLU's hearing him. And even if they did, he was surrounded by sentries. They'd have no chance.

With little thought, Engineer started playing softly. The music was slow and relaxed, much like how he felt, and he glanced up at the starry sky as he played.

The strumming was mostly muscle memory with little thought behind it, so before long Engineer found himself dozing off - until he heard the distinct sound of soft, quiet footsteps in the sand. Must've been one of his teammates up to take a leak, probably Sniper. It was common for the team to go outside instead of using the toilets in the base - one of Soldiers raccoons had crawled under the floorboards and died, and the stench was unbearable.

Besides, if it was a BLU his sentries would have shot them to bits by now.

He called out to them.

"Lil' late t'be snoopin' 'round out here, ain't it? Best get back t'bed."

The footsteps stopped. There was a moment of quiet, the only noises were the crackling of the fire and the gentle strums of the Engineers guitar. He sighed. Maybe it was Medic, he was known to sleepwalk sometimes. Or Scout playing a prank on him.

Yeah, that's what it was. Little shit had done it before.

"Look bud, if yer tryna scare me again it won't work. Like last time, all you'll get outta it is a facefull a' wrench and a broken--"

He glanced down as he spoke, then nearly jumped out of his skin. Frozen in place, all he could focus on was the gas-mask staring directly at him from the other side of the campfire. The fire created a flickering orange glow in the round, emotionless lenses that seemed to burn right into the Engineer.

Then he realised his turrets hadn't shot the Pyro, so it must have been his own teammate. It was only slightly relieving, because that guy - thing? - had always scared the shit out of him. And he wasn't quick to scare.

But then he saw the blue hazmat suit.

Oh.

Engineer quickly grabbed his wrench from behind him. He wondered why the turrets hadn't shot at the enemy Pyro, until he realised the remote control beside him had them set to "standby" mode.

What a rookie mistake.

"Hey, listen--"

Engineer was about to switch the sentries on, until he saw that the Pyro was unarmed. It was just sitting there, legs crossed, elbows resting on its knees with its face in its hands, staring up at him with a somewhat fascinated look.

Engineer adjusted himself uncomfortably, hand hovering over the remote. What did this thing want with him??

Finally, the Pyro moved. It gestured to the guitar with a nod, then made a muffled sound of encouragement.

"Mm! Mm!!"

Engineer squinted slightly. Did it mean... _'Go on'?_  It wanted him to continue?

Well...he wasn't about to kill someone - something? - that was unarmed and relatively docile. He was better than that.  
He swallowed, then looked down at his guitar. With a deep breath he started playing again, a little shakier than before, not taking his eyes off of the Pyro.

After a few moments, the Pyro started gently swaying side-to-side with the music.

"Hmmm..." it hummed quietly, like it was sighing. Engineer glanced around. Nobody else in sight.

He knew from his own Pyro that these guys tended to be... _different_  in the head. Maybe - just maybe - this Pyro had no intention of killing him. Maybe it simply wanted to hear his music. It didn't bring a weapon.

Now that he thought about it, he relaxed slightly. That gas mask still creeped him out a bit, but at least he knew for now that it wasn't going to be the  _last_  thing he saw.

Suddenly, the Pyro got to its feet. Engineer watched with awe and slight fascination as the other being started dancing to his music. Slow twirls, dips, curtsies, somewhat feminine movements for something so ruthless in the battlefield. In fact...Engineer had some scars on his body from where the enemy Pyro had burned him.

The same Pyro that was now dancing along so sweetly and innocently to the sound of his guitar.

When the song finished, the Pyro stopped mid-dance and looked in Engineers direction. He raised his hands up.

"I-I should really be gettin' back to my base, now...I uh...it's gettin' late...maybe you should head to bed too, huh?"

Pyro faced him and tilted its head slightly, like it didn't understand. Engineer sighed. Of course it didn't understand what he was saying.

"Okay, um...I go, RED base, tired, need sleep...you go, BLU base, also need sleep, yeah?"

Pyro stayed stock-still for a good few seconds, and the Engineers fear was growing again, until Pyro shook it's head.

 _"Nmm hmmh!_  Mmph hmm mph, hrrmm?"

Now it was the Engineers turn to not understand. He shrugged and held his hands up.

"I can't...hear ya, bud." He said, then gestured to his own face." Th'mask, it's hard to hear ya."

Pyro immediately seemed to understand as it nodded in agreement.

To the absolute shock of the Engineer, the Pyro sat back down, lifted its hands, and started to  _take off the mask._

Unable to interrupt or even blink, Engineer watched with a mix of fear and absolute anticipation. He'd never seen a Pyro without the mask. They always wore the same one, and it always muffled their voices to the point of their speech sounding like complete jibberish.

It was taking ages to pull the mask off. Maybe fear of exposing itself, or maybe it was Engineers rush of adrenaline playing tricks on him and making everything appear slowed-down.

Finally, the rubbery mask slid off of the Pyro's head. It shook its head quickly like a dog, and Engineer could see a full head of thick, curly hair, a deep ashy black colour with streaks of silvery white.

"You can hear me now, si?"

The voice was lighter, a bit hoarse, but much more soft and level than Engineer had been expecting - a far cry from the loud and gruff noises the Pyro's usually made under their gas masks.

"It" was nothing more than a young man.  
And he appeared to be Spanish.

A speckle-dappled face and a wide, bright orange eye smiled at Engineer. The right half of his face seemed to have been decimated by flames at a distant point in his life - the skin was scarred and pink, uneven, and the eye on that side of his face appeared to be blind, or at least partially, glazed over and tinted white.

He was so awestruck with the sight before him that the Engineer only realised he'd been sitting in total silence when the Pyro cleared his throat. The quiet noise made him jump, and he snapped back to the moment at hand.

"Oh! U-uh, yeah, I can hear ya jus' fine now."

The Pyro beamed, eyes squinting as he smiled. The grin revealed a large gap between his two front teeth.

"Bueno. My English is not so good, si? And I said before - I'm not tired, please play more music? Pleeease? Por Favor?"

He resumed that position from before, legs crossed like a child, hands on his cheeks.  
Engineer was starting to see just how young the Pyro not only acted, but looked. He was clearly no older than 25, but his scars showed he'd already been through a lot. And yet, he still radiated childlike energy and curiosity.

He almost pitied the poor thing.

"...alright, I'll keep playin' for ya. You always this friendly with your enemies..?"

He started playing again, watching the Pyro. The younger man tilted his head.

"Enemy? You're not my enemy. Maybe in contract, but nobody is really Pyro's enemy. Pyro just burns who I need to burn, si? Is nothing ever personal. Fire is good. You see? So colourful and warm~"

He held his hands up to the campfire and giggled quietly, absolutely loving the sight and feeling of the flames.  
The fascination with fire was more endearing than unnerving now that the mask was off...

Wait, what was Engineer thinking?? This was his enemy - just hours ago they were fighting to kill each other and their comrades. He couldn't make a friend out of this BLU.

"You are born in America?"

The Pyro asked, bringing Engineer out of his conflicted thoughts.

"Huh?"

"America. You were born here? Grew up in Texas, si? Your voice - it sounds like Texas accent. I like it, sounds warm and welcoming, like sunset."

The compliment was unexpected, but not unwelcome. A bashful  _"awh"_  broke out from the Texans lips and he rubbed at the back of his neck.

"Thanks, heh...yep, Texas boy, born n' raised. Ain't much different here than it is back home, though here it's a mite colder in the winter..."

Pyro gave another soft giggle, which gave way to a tiny little snort.  
Oh, Engineer had never heard _that_ before. He'd always thought of snort-laughs as ugly and snobbish, especially whenever Spy did it. But this was soft, repressed, almost...childlike. That phrase was crossing Engineers mind a lot the more he interacted with the Pyro.

"Must be difficult, growing up with all this sand and dust and barely any trees to light up. You like lighting things up, si? You lit good campfire."

He blew onto the flame, making it dance and smiling as he watched it intently.

"Pyro came from Spain. Not very nice life there. Not very nice people. They didn't much like me."

 _'Wonder why that was,'_  thought Engineer.

"But then I come to America, and everything is good, everything is nice and old lady is nice and gives me job where I can light things up all day..! It is good life in America, yes. You are lucky."

Engineer shrugged, continuing to strum away at his guitar.

"Guess so. Say, uhm..."

He glanced around, then leaned forwards and whispered to the Pyro.

"Hope y'don't mind me askin' this but uh...I'm curious. How did this whole thing come about?"

He gestured to the other mans outfit. The Pyro tilted his head again like a confused puppy, except this time Engineer could see his eyebrows furrow questioningly.

"Ahh, okay...how exactly did you start...acting...like this? So obsessed with fire n' burnin' things. It..."

 _'It ain't right'_  would probably warrant a negative response. That was the last thing he wanted.

"It's...interestin'."

Pyro thought for a moment, looking deeply into the campfire.

"Hm. Difficult to say. Fire has always been good...no idea why people so afraid. They think I'm strange for liking it. Feh. I am not strange. I think..."

He looked around, as if what he was about to say was very secretive. He leaned forwards and cupped his hands over his mouth, and Engineer listened.

_"I think...that **other** people are who is strange. Maybe - just maybe - Pyro is only person on the planet who sees fire as it should be. Fire only hurts people who let it hurt them. Fire is a friend to those who respect it. Maybe everyone else sees something that I don't. But I suppose, if I am only sane person on earth, then everyone else will think I'm the crazy one...this makes sense?"_

Engineer nodded thoughtlessly. He couldn't believe it. Not only had the Pyro come up with such an explanation...but it  _made sense_. At least, from the Pyro's point of view. There was no doubt this boy was crazier than a rabid skunk. He almost pitied him... _almost_...

"Do you think Pyro is crazy?"

Engineer looked up to see the Pyro now had a very solemn, upset look on his face. Damn thing read his mind.

"I am used to it. I know the face you make. You are afraid of me. You think I'm some monster like so does everyone else. Is that true, Señor?"

The older man stuttered a bit before replying. He chose his phrasing very carefully - the one thing he didn't want to deal with was an _angry_ Pyro.

"N-no. I don't think yer crazy. Just...very enthusiastic about fire. People these days don't really get excited for much no more, so they think yer bein' weird for likin' somethin' so much. And - I was only scared before cuz' I saw you were BLU. Anyone else on your team woulda killed me if they saw me out'n the open like this so I assumed you would too. But, ya didn't. So I guess...we're alright now, huh?"

Pyro sniffed, wiped his nose, then smiled again.

"Engineer made good points, you're smart. Made so many pretty machines all by yourself. So I can trust your opinion, si?"

Engineer nodded with a smile of his own.

"Sure."

Pyro smiled even wider, happy with that answer, before standing up, his mask held under one arm.

"O-kay. Pyro is happy to have new friend. Will make sure not to light you up when we meet again, hahah~"

He paused, then looked at Engineer.

"Do you have other name Pyro can call you by? 'Engineer' is very formal. Not what friends call each other, no."

Engineer was at a loss for words at this point. Simply too dazed by the entire conversation, staring blankly up at the Pyro, trying to figure out what to say. Pyro snickered.

"Okay, I say first. My name is Ángel."

Engineer blinked.

"...An- _hell?"_

Pyro snorted with laughter and started giggling uncontrollably, one hand hiding his face in supposed embarrassment.

"No no, heheh...that is how we say 'Angel' in Spain. You call me 'Angel', si? And now, what is your name..?"

Engineer swallowed and lowered his hat.

"...Dell. Though, don't go tellin' yer team that... _Angel."_

Angel started giggling again, doubling over slightly and holding his stomach. It was quite a contagious sound, and Dell almost found himself chuckling along.

"Heheheh~ Dell is funny name, and is even funnier hearing you say mine! But thank you Dell, you play guitar very good and let me listen. Teammates are not as nice as you are. Hope you sleep well, Dell, sun comes up soon.  _Muchas gracias~!"_

Before Dell could say much more, the Pyro slipped his mask back on and started giggling again. That soft voice was gone, replaced with the usual, gruff, muffled cackling from before.

_"Hmhmhmhmhm!! Hmhm, hm-hmhmm--!!"_

Pyro twirled, bowed to Dell, who tipped his hat in return, and before he knew it, Angel was gone just as quickly as he came, skipping off into the night.

Heart racing, hands shaking, the Engineer reached up and took off his hat, rubbing his forehead. He was sweating, even in the cold night air.

He looked up to see that his new 'friend' had already disappeared into the darkness, leaving behind a strange and lonely silence.

That was the strangest, most intriguing, most baffling few minutes of Dell's long life, by far. He had a lot of questions, but many of his previous questions had been answered. Now, there were new questions. But they could wait for another day.

Dangit...now he'd have to stay up and reprogram the machines not to target that Pyro. He needed more answers and he sure couldn't get them if Angel was dead.

And...he couldn't shake that strange feeling. Like a mix of anxiety and exhilaration. As much as his common sense wanted to deny it, he couldn't get rid of that tightness in his chest and the shakiness in his legs.

 

_Angel had to be the cutest darn thing he'd ever seen._

 

...It was gonna be a long night.


	2. Distractions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Engineer can't stop thinking about the previous nights encounter, and it's interfering with his work. His teammate catches onto this.
> 
> Meanwhile, the Pyro is having problems of his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Might make this weekly depending on my schedule. Enjoy this update!

_Angel_ , thought Dell.

 _Angel, Angel, Angel._ He couldn't shake that stupid little Pyro from his head as he worked. His team was doing well holding back the BLU's and he sure as Hell couldn't afford to get distracted, especially when the Sniper was nagging him from his nest.

But that DAMN Pyromaniac was stuck in the back of his mind; the giggle, the snort, the messy scars covering his face and neck, that piercing orange eye --

"Aw, SHIT!!"

He yelled as the turret he was working on malfunctioned. Sparks flew from its circuits, before smoke drifted towards the ceiling. He'd cut the wrong wire. Damnit.

"ENGIE! WE NEED THAT SENTRY OUT HERE ASAP," called Sniper from just outside, making sure nobody came near the building while the Engineer worked.  
Dell snarled and wiped his greasy hands on a rag.

"WORKIN' ON IT!!" he yelled back, and got to work fixing the damage he'd caused.

Finally it was finished, and Dell rushed to bring it outside. He placed it where the Sniper was standing and wiped his forehead.

"What took so long, Engie??" Sniper snarled, lowering his gun. The sentry could handle that from now on.

"Engine malfunction. Cut the wrong dang wire, rookie mistake. Save yer pisstakin' for later, Bushboy, we're sittin' ducks out here."

"Wait a sec--"

Sniper had his hawk-like eyes locked onto something. Dell followed his gaze.

The BLU Pyro was sprinting across the battlefield below them, screaming, laughing, setting everything in sight ablaze.  
The sentry didn't even move.

Sniper glared at Dell.

"The damn thing's broken, ya hard-hatted wanker!! And I'm on my last bullets!!"

Dell didn't say anything. He watched, motionless, as Angel - the same boy who had been laughing and dancing with him the night before - ran around like a maniac and mercilessly burned everything in sight.

Then he remembered. What Angel had said. He always saw fire as _good_. Something not to be afraid of, so long as you respected it. That he didn't burn people out of malice - but out of contractual obligation.  
Such ruthlessness...it couldn't have been true.

"ARE YOU MAD?!! DO _SOMETHIN'!!"_

Dell blinked and looked at Sniper, who was now kicking the sentry. It didn't budge. That's right, he remembered now - he'd reprogrammed it not to target the BLU Pyro anymore.

Sniper growled in anger at the machines refusal to cooperate, before raising his rifle and taking aim.  
Dell was still so awestruck at the sight before him, he didn't notice. But then he heard the click of the safety coming off the rifle, and his chest tightened.

"G'bye, freakshow--"

Sniper squeezed the trigger, sight perfectly aligned with the Pyro's head - but before he could fire, Dell 'tripped', knocked the sentry over, which bumped into Sniper right as he pulled the trigger.

BLAM.

There was a muffled **scream** as the bullet blasted through the Pyro's leg, sending him crashing to the ground.

"DELL, YOU FUCKIN' MADMAN, I MISSED THE SHOT!!"

Dell watched, breathing heavily, as Angel lay in the dirt, clutching his bloodied leg, screaming for a Medic. Someone else approached - the BLU Heavy.

As soon as he entered the line of fire, the Sentry stuttered to life, took aim, and fired a string of bullets at the Heavy. It took mere seconds to bring the big guy down, collapsing in a pool of blood.

Snipers eyes widened. Something was going on. He turned and stared at Dell, before his sharp eyes squinted.

_"What did you do."_

Dell took a deep breath, then looked up at his teammate.

"I dunno, must've...been that wire I cut...the sentries never do this--"

Sniper stood up, towering over Dell threateningly. Dell swallowed.

 _"Exactly_. Your machines wouldn't fail to shoot one _specific_ BLU unless you bloody meant them to. So, I'll ask again and you better have a concrete answer for me, mate..."

He pointed down to the fallen Pyro.

"Why is that **thing** still alive, and why ain't your damn machine blastin' lead into it as we fuckin' speak."

Dell glanced down to the Pyro, who had dragged himself to shelter, leaving a trail of blood in the dirt.

"...you...you gotta promise me you won't tell nobody, Snipe. I'm serious. If anyone finds out I'll be buried alive."

Sniper crossed his arms and rolled his eyes.

"...fine. But you owe me."

Dell gave a thankful nod.

 

It took about five minutes to explain the events of the last night, and by the end of it, Snipers look of mild annoyance had turned into one of absolute disbelief.

"So, he told me his name, I told 'im mine, an' before I knew it he'd scurried off somewhere."

Dell lowered his head shamefully.

"That's when I reprogrammed the machines not to shoot at 'im. I - I jus' need t'know more about 'im, Snipe. There's so much we don't know yet, about _any_ of the Pyro's."

Sniper took his hat off, rubbed his forehead, then gave a grumbling sigh. He finally spoke.

"So it's mutiny, then."

Dell started to sweat.

"W-well now, I wouldn't go puttin' it like that--"

"Dell, if the Admin found out, she'd 'ave yer 'ead for this. Make an **example** of ya. Remember Demo n' Solly?"

Dells face turned solemn, and he sighed, looking down.

"Yeah, how could I forget. Ain't pretty."

He glanced back down at the battlefield. The BLU Medic was tending to Angel now, out of the line of sight of the Sentry.  
Sniper scowled.

"If you think this's gonna go unpunished, mate, you're up shit creek without a bloody raft. I'm not gettin' involved. Do whatever you wanna do."

Dell sighed defeatedly and hung his head.

"That's fair. Didn't mean to involve you."

The sniper shook his head and slung his gun over his shoulder.

"Right. Don't mention this again or you'll be me next target practice. Wanker..."

With a few undiscernable grumbles, Sniper left the engineer to find a new nest.  
Dell bit his lip. Shit. There's one more thing he had to keep an eye on. If the rest of the team caught onto this, it could get very ugly.

  
~~~

  
Meanwhile, the BLU's were being slaughtered (as usual.) Their poor Medic was overworked, stressed out and exhausted. As the doctor tended to two wounded teammates, the now-healed Heavy fended off anyone who got too close.

The Scout, his arm broken as well as several ribs, was groaning and complaining as Medic worked as fast as he could to heal the damage.

"C'mon, doc, my grandma could do it faster! And she's **dead!!"**

The Medic finally snapped and barked at the boy, raising a finger in a scolding manner.

"If you just held still and _let me_ , maybe we wouldn't be stuck in zhis mess!! Now SIT DOWN AND _**SHUT UP!!"**_

Scout practically shrunk.  
The BLU Medic didn't shout often, but he was _scary_ when he was angry. Begrudgingly, the Scout complied and sat still while the Medic patched him up, not wanting to incur his wrath.

Though, Scout had to thank whatever God there was that they didn't have a Medic like the RED team...he shuddered at the thought of that psychopath.

Not even a glance was spared towards the Pyro in the corner. The Medic had given him a quick blast with the medigun, but other than that, he was left to recover on his own.  
The bloodloss from the bullet wound, now healed, made him weak, and he knew just another little boost from the medigun would fix it.

_"...mmh...m-mmph?"_

The Medics eye twitched and he cast a dismissive sideglance in the direction of the Pyro. He was dealing with enough to be concerned with that...person.

"You're healed, schweinhund. Now get out of here and do your job burning zhose REDs."

The Scout sneered in Pyro's direction and clenched a fist.

"Ey, tryna hog the healer, freakshow? Need me to teach ya' another lesson 'bout _respect?!"_

Angel felt the colour drain from his already paling face. He struggled to his feet, grabbed his flamethrower, and staggered out into the battlefield, dizzy and nauseous.

Medic sighed and continued tending to Scouts broken bones. They took so much longer to heal than fleshwounds and Medic was growing even more impatient.

"You know, as much as you dislike them, we still _need them_ on zhe team."

"I think you mean ' **it** ', doc. And that twitchy little psycho asks for it, just _look_ at it. The captain thinks so too, y'know. Heard him say--"

Scout gave a shrill shriek as Medic jabbed one of his broken ribs with a fist. The doctor then shushed the younger man.

"We are _working!!_ Zhis is not zhe time nor place to discuss zhe Captains private affairs, don't you know by now zhe RED Spy could be _anywhere?!"_

Scout rubbed at his chest and wheezed like a broken chew-toy.

"Don't gotta be an asshole!! You're supposed to _fix_ these, not make 'em worse!!"

The Medic chuckled darkly and straightened his glasses.

"Don't be a baby. Now, come, we have a lot of catching up to do."

He patted the Scouts back and grabbed his medigun, before sprinting off. Scout staggered to his feet and followed suit.

 

Once he was sure the other two mercenaries were gone, Angel, who had been hiding outside the shelter and listening in on their conversation, finally allowed himself to make a sound.

He sobbed.

The Pyro balled his fists, hung his head and his shoulders jerked as he repressed another sob.  
He should have been used to this by now. He _thought_ he was...all the names, 'twitchy', 'psycho', 'freakshow', they weren't exactly new to him.

Then, he thought back to the previous night, and it all fell into place.  
Angel pictured that lonely RED Engineer, smiling at him, letting him sit, listening to him and simply...showing kindness, despite Angels reputation, as well as their contractual agreement to _kill each other_.  
He whispered to himself, which was loud in his own ears as the mask muffled his voice.

["...no."]

Angel sniffed and shook his head, then forced a small smile.

["If...if Dell thinks I am normal, it must be true. He is smart. So much smarter than teammates. Yes..."]

He smiled wider, then reached up and lifted the gas-mask slightly from his face. He reached inside and wiped the mist from his lenses - tears tended to do that.

["Pyro has a friend now..! A friend who says I am _enthusiastic!_ Therefore, not crazy."]

The burning building not too far from where he was standing gave a pathetic creak, before collapsing in on itself, sending ash everywhere. There were some distant, muffled screams of terror as whatever REDs were trapped inside were burned alive.

Angel felt motivation welling in his chest. He held his head high and picked up his flamethrower again.

["Pyro is going to do good job today! Don't care what team says! Dell believes in Pyro~!"]

With renewed spirit and newfound confidence, the BLU Pyro ran out into battle once again.

 

The paths of the RED Engineer and the BLU Pyro did not cross that day, but their occasional, brief glances at each other in the midst of combat was motivation enough to get them through the battle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope this was okay, I'm honestly kind of making it up as I go, despite having a few...exciting ideas for the future.  
> As always, critique and suggestions from you guys are welcome and encouraged. Stay tuned~


	3. Hello Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another sleepless night for Dell means another encounter with the curious Pyro. But the visit doesn't exactly go according to plan.

The darkness fell just as it did every night, with the mercenaries returning to their bases, either exhausted and bleeding from defeat, or jovial and celebratory with victory.

As per usual, the REDs were victorious, and the team spent the night drinking and laughing together.

Dell didn't feel like celebrating. His earlier encounter with the Sniper had made him deeply anxious. And, like most other nights, he couldn't get a wink of sleep. Too many thoughts swimming around his brain - more than usual.

He snuck out to that usual spot out on a slight hill in the dusty wasteland, set up some sentries on either side of him, and simply sat, trying to clear his head.  
Tonight, however, he'd brought a crate of beer. His own personal stash, imported from Germany. First-class stuff.  
He kept them hidden from the others at all times - knowing them, this 3-month supply would barely last a few days if they found out about it - and only brought it out for special occasions, or when he just really needed to take his mind of things.

This was obviously one of those nights.

Dell took a long, thirsty glug from a bottle, savouring the refreshingly cold brew that warmed him as it bubbled and trickled down his throat.

"Ahh, that's the stuff," he muttered to himself before burping quietly and setting the bottle down next to him.  
The campfire was warm, and finally, Dell found himself relaxing, not thinking about his worries or the many questions he had about the--

"Buenas tardes, Dell!!"

_"GACK--"_

Dell choked mid-chug of his beer and started to cough and splutter into his hands. Angel, unmasked and standing directly next to him, looked down at him with his hands on his hips.

"Oh! Did I startle you?"

Dell took a few moments to make sure he hadn't inhaled any beer before glancing up at the offender.

"Only half to death--!" he spat, wiping his mouth. "What're you doin' back here?! And why'd you have to sneak up on me?!"

Angel pouted, then sat down and made himself at home across from Dell, much like the previous night. He set his mask down next to him and looked back up at Dell with a smile; an almost expectant look.

Dell glanced around. He honestly hadn't expected the Pyro to return and now that he had, he was slightly lost on what to do.

"...you didn't come here to hear me play guitar, right? Cuz' I didn't bring it this time..."

Angel shrugged.

"Is okay, just wanted to say hello after today. Very good match, your team did well, congratulations for win."

Dell cleared his throat and tipped his hat. Sportsmanship was very rare in this war, there was quite the mutual hatred between both sides, and so little respect for the opposite team. This was a refreshing thing to hear.

"Thank you kindly. And uh...you guys weren't too bad either. Though I gotta say, you yourself made it pretty difficult for us. I saw you out there."

He shuddered slightly.

Angel stayed oblivious, simply giving a bashful giggle and a dismissive wave of his hand.

"Oh, was nothing. I was just in...very good mood."

The man paused, then looked away.  
Dell could tell something was up, but decided not to press the matter further.  
Maybe if he changed the subject.

"Want a beer?"

Angels attention was immediately back on Dell, and he curiously tilted his head.

"I...have never tried beer. Is it good?"

Dell gave Angel a look, then chuckled. This kid was something else.

"Well, depends on personal taste, but this? This is the good stuff."

He patted the crate of beer next to him. It was full of ice, keeping the bottles nice and cold.

"Not too alcoholic, real refreshing, 'specially out here when the water filters ain't workin' half the time. Wanna try it?"

Angel glanced around, like a curious child making sure no adults were present to scold him.

"Okay, I try it."

Dell smirked and held out a bottle for Angel, which he took carefully.  
The Spaniard looked at the label, squinting and brushing his curls away from his good eye. It took him quite a while to actually read what was on the label - a detail Dell found strange, considering it only really had the name of the beer and some basic info about it.

"...Texas Gold?" Angel slowly read aloud, then squinted again. "Made in... _Germany?"_

He looked up at Dell with an expression of absolute confusion.

"How can _Texas_ Gold be made in _Germany?"_

Dell laughed heartily and shook his head.

"Well them Germans are real good at makin' beer, they ship it all over the world. They called this one 'Texas Gold' cuz' it's based on an old Texan recipe. At least, that's what I heard. I jus' like the taste, don't really care where it comes from."

Dell took a swig from his own bottle and watched through his goggles as Angel tried to figure out how to open the bottle in his hands. The Texan smirked and held a hand out.

"Here, lemme get that for ya."

Angel huffed and handed him the bottle, which Dell easily opened with the flick of one finger. As the drink hissed, Angels jaw dropped.

"How did you do that?!"

Dell chuckled and tugged his glove off, revealing the Gunslinger, which he flexed twice to demonstrate its dexterity. Angels eyes sparkled at the sight of the mechanical hand.

"Say hello to the Gunslinger."

" _Whoah!!_ Dell is, uh, um...what is English word? You know, um, half man, half metal?"

Dell tried to stifle a laugh and failed.

"Ya mean a cyborg?"

"Si! Si! Cy-borg! You are cyborg!!"

A pause.  
Then and there, both men burst into laughter, Dell slapping his knee, Angel rocking back on his perch and throwing his head back. The sound was warm and inviting, echoing across the vast gravel wasteland.

It took a few minutes for them to settle, as looking at each other would send them back into hysterics. Dell wasn't even sure why he was laughing - it was just so funny.

Though, Angels laughter was cut short as another sound interrupted him. A loud, ragged, breathless **cough** rattled through his body.  
Dell's smile faded to a look of concern as the other man covered his mouth and doubled over, coughing and hacking in a violent manner that he'd never witnessed before in another person. It was an ugly noise. A painful noise.

"Hey, hey, whoah there, you alright..?"

Dell stood up, but Angel held one hand up to stop him.  
He finished his coughing fit, leaning back and spitting into the dirt behind him. He looked back at Dell with flushed cheeks and watery eyes. His voice was hoarse and ragged.

_"I-is okay, Dell, this happens. Bad throat."_

That didn't sound like a throaty cough. It was the kind of cough that sounded like ones diaphragm was going to tear apart and their lungs were full of water.

"A...alright...take it easy, now. Try sippin' your beer, might help."

Angel nodded and looked at the bottle still clutched in his hand. He lifted it to his face and sniffed at it.

"...ohh...interesting."

He pressed the rim to his lips and tipped the bottle back, sipping the liquid inside.  
After a few moments to consider the taste, Angel hummed and nodded.

"Very strange. Feels cold and warm at the same time. And tingles on my tongue!"

Dell nodded back and smiled.

"This your first time drinkin' alcohol?"

Angel paused for a suspicious length of time.

"...yes, it is. But I must know - did you make your metal hand yourself? Looks like something from the future..."

He took another sip of the beer, exploring the taste. Dell shrugged and swigged from his bottle. If Angel wanted to change the subject, it was fine by him.

"Yep, I made it, but uh...my ol' dad invented it, quite a few years ago. I jus' studied his blueprints, or what was left of them, and put my own more modern spin on it. Pretty lil' thing, ain't it?"

Angel nodded.

"Is beautiful! Your dad is also Engineer, si? If he invented Gunslinger, he sounds like a brilliant man."

Dells face fell. He hung his head a little, looking down at the dirt.

"...yeah, he was."

Angels eyes widened, and he looked away.

"O-oh, I am so sorry, I just--"

"It's fine, Angel. You didn't know."

There was a lengthy silence, only accompanied by the warm crackle of the fire between them. Angel tried to think of something to say, but drew a blank.  
Thankfully, Dell spoke first.

"Y'know somethin', Angel? You're the only person I've been able to sit down and share a beer with in _years_."

The younger man felt his face flush a little in shyness, and he smiled, hiding his face behind his silver-streaked fringe.

"What about your teammates?", he asked quietly.  
Dell shook his head and rubbed at the back of his neck.

"Yeah they're alright, and they do invite me to come drink with 'em, but I'm always either too busy or jus' plain _sick_ of seein' their faces after a whole day of dealin' with their shit."

He paused.

"...what about _your_ teammates?"

Angel stiffened and his grip tightened on the bottle. His eyes locked onto Dell's gaze, and he inhaled deeply, giving a sharp and stern answer.

"No."

Dell was surprised as the BLU Pyro stood up abruptly. He opened his mouth to speak, but Angel beat him to it.

"Sun rises soon. Must get back to base and sleep...will need it for tomorrow, Angel heard there is big mission. Good luck, Dell."

Without so much as a goodbye, Angel set his beer down, slipped on his mask, and walked away.  
Dell sat and watched him leave. Something inside him wanted to pursue the other man, but he knew better. He didn't want to scare the other away right when he was beginning to gain his trust.

Something was wrong, he could tell, but he didn't know what. It could be a number of things - Dell realised he still barely knew anything about the Pyro. It was far too early to be making assumptions about his personal life...but, that cough...and the way he just up and left at the mention of his teammates...

Once again, left with more questions than answers swimming around in his overactive mind, the Engineer begrudgingly started to pack his gear away to head back to base in time for breakfast.

Dell sighed. Yet another sleepless night under his belt.  
...next time he'd be sure to bring his guitar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one took so long, I've been absolutely destroyed by work and college lately. Hope this makes up for it! I'm finally on holiday for a week so I'll try to get Chapter 4 up early, just to make up for lost time.


	4. I-Spy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meet the Spies of RED and BLU team.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait on this one! College is kicking my butt. :(   
> (and sorry for the lack of cuteness in this chapter, ahaha~)
> 
> Also, thank you so much for 27 kudos! That's actually my lucky number, as it's the day of my birth - June 27th. So, I guess it's a good omen! Thanks for reading this far! I have big plans, don't you worry, I don't plan on ending this fic anytime soon ~ <3

5:35am...back with twenty-five minutes to spare.   
Dell decided it wasn't enough time for a quick power-nap, instead opting for the next best thing - caffeine.   
  
He made his way to the kitchen, feeling too mentally exhausted to really pay much attention to his surroundings. He pushed his goggles up to rub at his eyes and sighed, fetching the coffee from the cupboard.   
  
As he spooned the fresh-ground coffee granules into the coffee maker, he wondered if the mission that day would at least be entertaining - he missed the early days of the gravel wars, where everyone was still getting acquainted and they discovered one whacky thing after another. Insta-heal technology, respawn (though, since the damn thing broke, the situation was far less fun and more about survival than all else), an actual wizard, crates upon crates of crazy weapons and gadgets, you name it. Dell had pretty much seen it all at this point...but he longed for the days where he hadn't, when he could still be surprised. 

When work was  _ fun _ .

  
  
"Back from another escapade to the wastelands, I see."   
  
"AGH--"   
  
Dell spun on his heels and dropped coffee grinds all over the floor, then grabbed the counter with both hands to steady himself.   
The smell of tobacco wafted through his nostrils and he scrunched his face up in disgust.   
  
"Ugh...how come everybody gotta sneak up on me lately?? 'Course it's to be expected from a snake like yourself."   
  
Spy stepped out from the shadows, chuckling and flicking some ashes from his cigarette to the floor, knowing full well it was Dells turn to mop the floors that week. Silver eyes locked onto Dells goggles, burning through them right into his retinas. He spoke, calmly and smoothly.   
  
"Well, if you 'aven't noticed, mon Ami, sneaking up on people is my  _ job _ . Besides, it appears you've been doing some sneaking around yourself, non?"   
  
Dell scowled and his mind went to Sniper. There was no way that weasel ratted him out to the Spy of all people. If so, he was truly up shit creek.   
  
"What's it to you, that's my personal business."   
  
Spy shrugged and blew a cloud of smoke into the air, causing Dell to wave his hand in a feeble attempt to get rid of it.   
  
"I was simply intrigued. A man like yourself doesn't seem like the type to have secrets...and I am not stupid, I see the way you fidget when nobody is looking. You're hiding  _ something _ , my labouring friend."   
  
The older, shorter man huffed and glanced away from Spy, who had gotten too close for comfort, looming over him with those fox-like eyes.    
The RED Spy had always been infamous with the enemy, and for good reason. BLU Spy was not to be messed with, certainly, but the RED Spy was a league of his own. Dell could see why the other man gained such a reputation - he was much more clever than he let on, and he was always  _ plotting _ . Always planning his next move, every outcome and every possibility, a solution to every possible problem, and if there were any ever deviances from the norm, you could always bet on Spy catching onto it before anyone else.   
  
Still, Dell stubbornly shook his head.   
  
"If you weren't my teammate I'd say you were gonna use this against me...hell, even if we are allies, I don't trust ya for a second."   
  
The Frenchman tapped his foot softly against the cheap lino floors and scoffed.   
  
"Fine, keep your little secrets, they are of no use to me right now...my interests were simply piqued, nothing else."   
  
The next thing Dell knew, Spy had slipped away in the blink of an eye. He looked around, and saw a trail of smoke leading out of the doorway.   
A valuable and formidable ally, for sure, but damnit if he didn't give Dell the creeps. He breathed out, feeling far safer now that he was alone, and turned back to the counter to finish making his coffee...and clean the floor, if he had time before the mission started.   
  
~~~   
  
Angel didn't wear a watch. He tried to a long time ago, but either the heat of his fire would melt the gears, or if he wore it under his suit, the metal would heat up and burn his skin.   
He usually relied on the position of the sun and moon to tell the time. And by the look of the sun peeking lazily over the horizon, he knew he had to get back to base. Fast.   
  
He started to jog through the sand, making sure he was silent as a mouse as he neared the hulking, stained grey building that was the BLU base.   
Hiding behind a large dead tree near the entrance, Angel made sure nobody else was around, cautiously peering out from his cover and scanning the area. When no threat presented itself, he quietly made his way around the side of the building.   
  
"Snooping around  _ again _ , little rat?"   
  
The distinctively French voice filled Angel with terror and he barely had a chance to react before the Spy had him pinned to the wall with a blade to his throat.   
  
"What business does a mute freak like yourself have out in the wastelands all night, hm? Setting fire to sand? I know you're up to something."   
  
The BLU Pyro tensed up and glanced around for any kind of escape, breathing heavily, his breaths whistling anxiously through the filter of his mask. The Spy scowled in disgust and spat his cigarette to the ground before stamping it out under his shoe.   
  
"You may be mute but you're certainly not  _ this _ stupid. You do realise the entire perimeter is monitored by cameras 24/7, oui? Lucky for you, nobody else on this damn team is competent enough to check the recordings. But I am. And I see you've been skulking off at night to God-knows-where."   
  
Angel felt the blade push a bit harder against the rubber of his mask, right into his throat. He dared not move. He held his breath and squeezed his eyes shut, ready for the Spy to cut his throat for the last time as he'd done so  _ so many times _ before.   
  
"...pfeh, pathetic."   
  
It felt like a bullet pierced the side of his face as the Spy hit him with the blunt handle of the knife. Angel stumbled and clutched his cheek through the mask - a drop of blood seeped through his filter and dripped down to the sand below, followed by another, and another, until a steady stream dribbled out of the filter and turned the dirt red.   
  
As Angel was doubled over in pain, the Spy proceeded to knee him full-force in the diaphragm. A horrible, retching cough rattled through the Pyro's body and he collapsed, arms curled around his abdomen, shaking and coughing like a beached fish. Every attempt at a breath was a dry, purple agony.   
  
Spy smirked and spat on the Pyro, slipping his knife back into the hidden pocket in his sleeve.   
  
"I'll be reporting this to the captain as per protocol, so you'd better start praying to whatever God you believe in."   
  
Angels eyes opened wide, and he shook his head slowly, silently pleading with his teammate.   
  
"Pfeh...you are a  _ disgrace _ to this team and to all mercenaries. Completely replaceable. Anyone can light things on fire, I don't know why we even hire freaks like you. I could do the same with a lighter and a can of hairspray. Consider it a blessing you've even lasted this long,  _ mongrel." _   
  
With that, the Spy left, but not before kicking some sand into Angels face, clogging his filter.   
Still immobilised by the kick to his belly, Angel lay there, choking, sobbing, trying his hardest not to let the tears flow down his cheeks despite already doing so.   
  
_ “E...estúpido bastardo..." _ he whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to control his breathing.   
  
It was less an insult to the Frenchman, and more to himself.   
  
  
  
~~~   
  
  
  
Dell sipped his coffee tentatively while mindlessly thumbing through the catalogue in his lap. He looked as if he were reading, but his mind was elsewhere.   
  
He was theorising. About Angel - where he came from, what caused him to be so eccentric and obsessed with fire, how he got those burns, where he got his weaponry and equipment that  _ clearly _ wasn't made by Mann Co., and other things. The little BLU Pyro had Dells brain doing summersaults - no amount of his 11 PHDs could have prepared him for this anomaly.

And he had mentioned the Administrator before, when they first met...an 'old woman' who employed him...surely she hadn't employed _both_ teams, right? Because that would raise a few _more_ questions.  
No, he was just being silly now - Angel could have been talking about any old woman.  
  
Speak of the devil herself, the familiar voice rang out from the speakers and echoed around the base. Dell closed his catalogue and stroked his moustache. Time for work.

  
  
**["Mission begins in 5 minutes."]**   


  
  
Angel was recovering from his earlier encounter with the Spy, looking himself over in his tiny, dirty bedroom mirror, when the announcement rang out and he growled. The left side of his face - the unburned side, much to his dismay - was severely bruised across the cheek. His nose was bleeding and his lower lip had been burst, blood now oozing down his chin.   
  
With a huff at the announcement, he wiped the blood from his face and got to preparing his equipment. He kept it all in his room, too protective to let his precious inventions just lay about with the rest of the teams weapons.   
  
Angel sighed and unzipped his now bloodstained suit, letting it fall to the floor. Even when he was alone, he felt his face heat up from exposure as his dark, heavily-freckled skin met the cool air.   
His body was surprisingly well built - tall and broad, with thick arms and legs, wide hips, and a little bit of a chunky waist. Decent muscle mass with a bit of extra fat, and yet he had well-defined and somewhat feminine curves. His pale, uneven burns extended from the right side of his face, down his neck, stretching across his back and down over his chest, and completely covering his right arm. These were not his only scars, though - years of battle had made the rest of his body slightly rugged, as well.  
Angel paused mid-change to look down at himself.   
  
...he felt his bloody nose scrunch up in disdain, and hands squeezed at the layer of fat over his belly. There were even  _ stretch marks _ . They were ugly, they looked too much like scars - he'd had enough of scars. It felt like he couldn't see his own skin anymore for scars. Ugly, unsightly, disgusting  _ scars _ .   
  
A hiss slithered from between his gapped teeth and he felt an unexplainable anger bubbling up inside his chest. His muscles tightened and his fists clenched up.   
  
_ "¡REPUGNANTE!" _   
  
Heavily scarred knuckles  _ shattered _ the mirror, glass shards embedding themselves into skin. Angel breathed heavily, eyes wide. The glass didn't hurt - he'd lost feeling in that arm long ago. No...his eyes hurt, his head hurt, he felt dizzy and sick and he didn't know why. Strange thoughts were swimming in his head.   
  
**["Mission begins in 2 minutes."]**   
  
Angels anger dissolved into fear, and all of his attention went elsewhere for the time being as he simultaneously forgot what had just happened.   
He scrambled to slip a clean hazmat suit on, completely forgetting about the glass shards in his knuckles as he slipped thick gloves over his hands. He pulled his mask over his head, having cleaned the filter of blood and dirt earlier. The heavy, homemade flamethrower he treasured so dearly was propped up in the corner, and he grabbed it and hauled it up with a grunt.   
  
He didn't want to fight today...he wanted to curl up in a corner and stop being there. He wanted to wake up someplace different. But he couldn't leave...he owed Mann Co. his life, and he wasn't about to pay their kindness with abandonment.   
  
Head still hurting, the BLU Pyro rushed out to meet the rest of his teammates at the loadout. He stood at the back of the row of mercenaries, not wanting to be seen, especially since the Spy was there.   
  
As the gates opened to the battlefield, letting the blinding light of the morning sun in, he wondered what Dell was doing. If he had to deal with the same things from his teammates every morning. He wondered what Dell would do.   
  
He wondered if this was normal.


End file.
